Let Go
by Daisy Brambleburr
Summary: Daisy Gamgee has accepted the fact that she will only ever be a neighbour to Frodo. But over time she learns that you should never make assumptions too rashly. A romantic story, slightly AU.
1. Chapter One

Authors note: This is my first major Frodo-fic, so I hope it turned out alright. When I started writing I could see Frodo turning into Merry or Pippin before my very eyes, so I tried to tone him down a little. I hope it worked. After all, all of the other hobbits get romance stories, so I decided that it was Frodo's turn. Also, according to the appendices at the end of RotK the Gamgees were not at Bilbo's farewell party because their names were not underlined. I have changed this in my story. And lastly, all reviews are very much appreciated! Disclaimer: LotR does not belong to me.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Frodo Baggins was such a gentle-hobbit. Always kind, always polite, always smiling quietly. I suppose that's why I fell for him. He lived up at Bag End with his cousin Bilbo, and I often saw him, as I lived at the bottom of the hill in Bagshot Row. They were good neighbours to us, were the Bagginses. Bilbo took the Gaffer on as his gardener, and young Sam went up there with him religiously every day since he was a young mite. I can still remember him earnestly digging up weeds with his rusty old trowel, because the Gaffer wouldn't trust him with the flowers or the prize vegetables that he was so fiercely proud of.  
  
That's how I got to know Frodo. My ma sent me up every day around midday with something for the Gaffer and Sam's luncheon. The Gaffer didn't like to impose too much on Bilbo, and even though he was often invited inside for a bite to eat, he politely declined, and sat out in the garden on an upturned bucket munching bread and cheese with Sam at his feet. My Gaffer was a proud man. Our family was never that well off and he didn't like to accept 'charity', as he was inclined to call it.  
  
When I let myself in through the garden gate I was sometimes greeted by Bilbo and occasionally by Frodo. They were both cheery and perfectly kind. I warmed to them both, even though I had heard tales (sometimes not the nice kind) about Bilbo from various hobbits. Sam often came bouncing into the kitchen chattering on about dragons and trolls after spending the day at Bag End. Apparently Bilbo was teaching him his letters, but he seemed to be learning about elves and whatnot more than how to read and write.  
  
The lunchtime routine was regular as clockwork, and it became a daily tradition. As the months went on I found myself hoping that Frodo would be there. I enjoyed talking to him, he was very intelligent and knew how to read and write Elvish as well as the common tongue, whereas I could do neither. Once he showed me some of his books, as I had expressed an interest in them. We never had many books down in Bagshot Row. I remember running my finger down the red leather cover and opening it slowly, feeling slightly in awe of the foreign characters neatly ordered on the clean white page. I couldn't understand the words, a few here and there perhaps, but Frodo pointed out some to me, and told me I could borrow the book. His manner was calm and somewhat quiet, and when he had first come to live at Bag End I had been a little shy of him. As I grew older I knew there was no need. He was as good-hearted as anyone could wish for, just like Bilbo. I didn't speak to Frodo that often, perhaps once or twice a week, and we rarely exchanged more than 'good mornings', but my heart warmed to him and every time I saw him I couldn't help but smile.  
  
The years passed like all trouble free years do. Bilbo seemed to be growing no older, but Frodo was maturing and it was soon to be his 33rd birthday, his 'coming of age'. I began to notice him more and more that year, and baffled myself as I sometimes thought of him when I was alone. I had never had those sort of feelings before, and I chose to ignore them and hope they would go away. Needless to say, they didn't, and I sometimes made excuses to go up to Bag End to get some gardening tools or return a book, just to see Frodo again. The Gaffer was not gardening as often, but Sam went up there most days. He was my perfect excuse to see Frodo. I was in the kitchen one morning in August when my mother passed me a bundle to take up to Sam.  
  
"There's some nice new bread and a fair sized piece of ham in there. Run up to Bag End. Sam'll be hungry."  
  
My heart leapt slightly at the mention of Bag End. I put the potato I was scrubbing back into the stone sink and, checking my hair quickly in the glass in the hall, opened the door and strolled up the path. It was a fine day, the sun was hot and I was in high spirits. I hummed a tune to myself as I pushed open the gate and walked around the back of the Hill to the garden where Sam was working. I glanced around, and then I spied not one, but two hobbits sitting under the apple tree. I mentally gathered myself when I saw that Frodo was sitting with Sam, casually leaning against the trunk munching on an apple. They both looked up when they heard me approach.  
  
"I've got you some food here, Sam.' I said, holding out the bundle.  
  
Frodo smiled, and turned to Sam. "I've told you enough times that you can come and eat inside with me, Sam. We have more than enough," he said, his tone light though his offer was serious.  
  
Sam's cheeks coloured. "I wouldn't want to impose, Mister Frodo."  
  
"You'd be doing no such thing! Bilbo is in his study and I'd like to have company," Frodo replied.  
  
"No Mister Frodo. It wouldn't be right," Sam said, shaking his head. "I'm happy sitting outside in the sun with my luncheon."  
  
Frodo grinned in defeat and shrugged his shoulders good naturedly. "Have it your way." Then, seeing me he added, "you're welcome in Bag End too, Miss Daisy. And your sisters."  
  
"Thank you," I replied. "I shall remember."  
  
As I turned to walk away back home Frodo got up and moved to my side.  
  
"Would you like me to walk you to the gate?"  
  
I felt myself blush.  
  
"That would be nice."  
  
He took my arm, and I couldn't help but feel at ease. As we strolled out of the garden he said;  
  
"I hope you will be coming to the party. You and all of your family. You have been good neighbours and I would like you to be there."  
  
"That's kind of you," I replied. "I'd be happy to come."  
  
"I'm glad," Frodo said as we reached the gate. "Good afternoon!"  
  
I stood for a moment watching him as he walked back up the garden path. Then I turned and made my way back to Bagshot Row, feeling rather dreamy. The thought of my mother's words "You've got your head in the clouds" ran through my head, and it was true. Frodo Baggins certainly was a very nice hobbit.  
  
I smiled. "A very nice hobbit."  
  
*-* 


	2. Chapter Two

Authors Note: Thank you to my reviewers. Arwen Baggins, I'm going to touch upon their place as servants in later chapters. I'm not sure why I decided to use Daisy Gamgee, probably because I thought it would be a bit different. I've seen some stories where Frodo's paired with Pearl Took, but never a Gamgee. And that story about your parents is so cute! Weirdly, I thought I had more than one review (I got 3 e-mail alerts) so if anyone else has reviewed, thanks! In this chapter I used the, (rather clichéd I'll admit) dance theme. I hope it's not too bad, but I think it works. All reviews are very much appreciated!  
  
Chapter Two  
  
On the whole, the party was a very enjoyable affair. Except for the ruckus caused by Bilbo's disappearance, of course. It shocked a lot of hobbits, but I secretly found it rather funny. Just the sort of thing Bilbo would do. Like a lot of other hobbits (especially Sam) I had taken him to my heart. Of course, I was sad when I discovered that he was leaving for good, 'gone to visit the elves', someone said, but I decided that he couldn't have left in better, or more suited, style.  
  
Sam, May, Marigold and I arrived at the party around 11'o clock. There were jobs at home that had to be done first. May and I mend clothes and cook meals, and we often sat in the living room patching dresses and talking merrily. After our chores were done we pulled on some more presentable clothes and made our way to the party field. It was one of the grandest parties I had ever been to. Food and music and dancing, as well as the most magical fireworks I had ever seen.  
  
Marigold, May and I, after eating our full, made our way over to the area that had been cleared for dancing. Sam had disappeared, and he was probably off sampling some of Bilbo's finest ale. We sat down at one of the tables that had been laid out, and I watched the couples whirling around the dance floor wistfully. I half wished that I could have a partner to dance with, but all the same was glad that no one was asking me. I had never learnt to dance, and was feeling rather out of place in my dress. It was my best one, but still rather worn and patched in places. As I was thinking Marigold was asked to dance by a rather shy Tom Cotton, and May hurried off to talk to some of her friends. Realising that I was left alone I leant back in my chair and took a sip from my glass of mulled wine. The wine made me feel warm inside and comfortable, and I was quite happy watching people as I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned my head and saw Frodo looking down at me, smiling. I shook myself out of my woozy state and stood up quickly.  
  
"Sorry to disturb you," he said, obviously a little unsettled at my ruffled appearance. I felt somewhat uncomfortable, his approach had startled me out of my thoughts abruptly.  
  
He smiled again shyly.  
  
"Would you like to dance?" he asked.  
  
Feeling rather taken aback, I paused for a moment. "Yes, yes of course," I then answered quickly, feeling my cheeks flushing. Annoyed with myself, I tried to cool them subtly with the back of my hand.  
  
Frodo held his hand out to me and I took it. With my free hand I picked up my skirts and followed him towards the band. They struck up a lively tune, and Frodo spun me around playfully. I clutched at his arm, and felt my heart jump. We began to dance, and I tried my best to keep in time.  
  
"Frodo," I whispered, as I stumbled over my own feet. "I don't...I don't really know how..."  
  
"Don't worry," he said, sensing what I meant at once. "Follow my lead. I'll teach you."  
  
Frodo turned out to be quite a good dancer. He told me where to put my feet so that I wouldn't tread on his toes and laughed good heartedly when I made a mistake. Soon I found myself laughing with him, and when we stopped I discovered that I didn't mind dancing at all.  
  
We sat down at the table again, red in the face and smiling.  
  
"You learn quickly," Frodo said, grinning as he took a gulp of ale.  
  
"I'm not as good as you," I replied bashfully, secretly pleased with his praise.  
  
We sat in silence watching the other dancers. Frodo didn't strike me as one for making small talk, he calmly sipped his ale, his face still after the rush of dancing. I realised that I was staring and looked down quickly, but Frodo hadn't noticed. I bowed my head and took another sip of wine. The song that the band were playing had ended, and I saw Sam and Rosie Cotton approaching out of the corner of my eye. I heard Sam thud down beside me, and Rosie sat beside Frodo.  
  
"Have you been dancing?" he asked me.  
  
"Yes," I answered. "Frodo's been teaching me."  
  
"And she was very good," Frodo said, shooting me a half smile.  
  
I felt my heart flutter at his look, and looked down smiling to myself. I knew that if I looked at him I would blush.  
  
"I must go," Frodo announced after a few minutes, draining his mug and getting up. "I'll see you later." Then he looked at me directly, and I could feel myself melt inside. His eyes looked into mine sincerely.  
  
"Thank you for the dance."  
  
I opened my mouth to say something back, but nothing seemed to want to come out. Then he was gone, and I was left gaping like a fish and feeling very warm inside, but this time it wasn't anything to do with the wine.  
  
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	3. Chapter Three

Authors Note: I haven't updated for a while, but it's not like I have lots of readers clamouring for a new chapter ;) I've been pretty slack. Thanks to FrodoBaggins87, I appreciate the review.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
May, Marigold, Sam and I did not go to Bilbo's big evening meal. The Gaffer and my mother went, but said that it was best for us four to head home. We strolled down the lane together, and as I glanced up the hill I noticed that the lights at Bag End were lit. Thinking that Frodo and Bilbo were still at their meal, I found it odd that the hobbit hole was not in darkness. Looking up at the gate I saw a solitary figure sitting on the bench by the front door. Straining my eyes against the semi darkness I made it out to be Frodo.  
  
"I'm going to see if everything is all right." I announced, turning and taking the path up the hill.  
  
May gave me a sideways glance, she had seen us dancing and obviously thought something was afoot. Ignoring her primly, I pushed open the gate and made my way quietly up the path. Frodo had his hands clasped, and was looking down at the floor. I noticed that he looked troubled, and hesitated just in front of him, unsure of what to say.  
  
"Is everything...is everything all right?" I asked quietly, fiddling with a piece of loose thread on my sleeve.  
  
Frodo looked up at me, and smiled a small, weary smile.  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you at the party?" I questioned, wondering fleetingly if I was being nosy.  
  
"Bilbo's left," he answered. "He's done a disappearing act." He smiled wryly and moved across so that I could sit down.  
  
"He's gone? Where? Is he lost?"  
  
I sat down beside Frodo and clasped my hands in my lap. I was rather surprised at his news, to say the least.  
  
"No, he planned it, he meant to go. He's gone off on another adventure."  
  
I sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what Frodo had said. Then, realising that I had appeared uninvited and was clearly outstaying my welcome, got up and stood for a second, unsure of what to do. Frodo, being Frodo, got up as well and stood awkwardly beside me. We both let out a nervous laugh in unison, and I then turned to leave, for I felt rather stupid. As I turned I felt Frodo catch my arm unexpectedly.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, apologising unnecessarily. "And thank you."  
  
"What for?" I questioned, turning to face him.  
  
"Thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate it."  
  
I smiled, and then turned and hurried away down the path. As I walked down the lane I saw Frodo standing where I had left him, looking somewhat thoughtfully at the gate which I had left swinging on it's hinges.  
  
**  
  
The next few days it was rather chaotic up at Bag End, and I didn't see Frodo for some time. People were clamouring for their gifts that Bilbo had left them. I stayed away, Frodo was probably having a hard time. However, I found myself unable to stop thinking about him. My mother flapper her tea towel at me as I sat at the kitchen table dreaming away with my head in my hands. After I pulled myself away from my thoughts I scolded myself for being so foolish and tried to think about of things. It wasn't much use, ever since we had danced I realised that I liked him more than ever.  
  
"Take a look at these taters Daisy! And this spade. Mighty nice, almost new, I'd say."  
  
The Gaffer had come in and caught me at one of my dreaming sessions at the kitchen table. With an effort I raised my head from my hands and looked up. He was holding a new spade proudly, as if it were made out of gold.  
  
"That Mister Bilbo was a fine hobbit, a fine hobbit. It's a mighty big shame he's gone, I'll say that."  
  
Then he looked at me properly, and frowned.  
  
"What are you doing sitting around the kitchen? There's plenty to be done. Apples to be picked, jam to be made. Your mother and sisters are out now at the market."  
  
"Sorry" I said, getting up from my chair. "I've got some mending to do, that's all."  
  
The Gaffer grunted. "Keep busy Daisy, keep busy." Then, still admiring his spade he went out into the garden, probably to try it out in the vegetable patch.  
  
I pondered for a moment on his words. Perhaps that was the way to stop myself mooning around after Frodo. To keep busy. Decisively, I strode out into the front room and took one of the dresses I was supposed to be patching. I picked up my mending box and went and sat in by the big window that overlooked...  
  
"Bag End" I sighed, pausing before I sat down. Then I shook my head and sat, pulling the needle and thread through the fabric rhythmically, forcing myself to concentrate. As they always do my thoughts wandered, and I daydreamed.  
  
What if I was to marry Frodo? I allowed myself a moment of make-believe, and couldn't stop the stupid smile that spread over my face. Would I go and live up at Bag End? Probably. It's so much grander than Bagshot Row. A feeling of unease struck me as I gazed into space. Abruptly, I stopped and looked around me. The old rocking chair, the worn rug that couldn't completely cover the floorboards. I remembered winters that were so cold that our stove couldn't give out enough heat. I remembered summers that were so hot that our hobbit hole was like a furnace. In my minds eye I saw the Gaffer labouring out in the garden with the sun beating down on his poor, burnt neck. 'We need the money', I could remember him firmly saying when he came in late in the evening. Then I thought of my clothes, patched and worn, I hadn't had a new dress in ages. Frodo's clothes looked brand new. The Gaffer's words came back to me. 'Don't you go mixing with the well- to-do folk too much, my lass', he had said as he looked at the book I had borrowed from Frodo. 'It's not your place.'  
  
I sighed, all thoughts of sewing forgotten. We were so different. Different classes, different lives. Why would Frodo be interested in a girl like me? I was plain, we were so different. I felt foolish tears prick at my eyes, and began sewing ferociously again, stabbing the needle in and out with such force that the stitches were out of line and messy. I sniffed, trying to pull myself together. Without warning the needle stabbed into my finger and I pushed it through the fabric. I gasped, dropping my work to the floor. I sucked on my finger, needle pricks always hurt. A tear dribbled down my cheek, it was as if I was using the pain as an excuse to be upset. I wiped it away angrily and sat nursing my finger silently, staring moodily out of the window at Bag End.  
  
*-* 


	4. Chapter Four

Authors note: Here's chapter four! I've just written a disastrous English essay, so I've decided to do something else to take my mind off it, so I've done some updating. Thanks to my reviewers, I appreciate it. Mojo, nice to hear from you! Glad you like it. Obelia Medusa, glad you like Daisy. I'll have to have a look at your story, It'll be interesting to see how you write about her. Queen of the Fairys, thanks! On with the story.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
After the events up at Bag End calmed down everything just about went back to the way it had been before the party. Sam carried on gardening, May and I were kept busy with our mending, and there were lots of other things to do. We had to store enough food for the winter, we made chutneys with the apples and jams with the fruits, and packed things into barrels until our arms ached. I was certainly succeeding in keeping busy, and it did work to some extent. One morning, May and I were peeling great bucket loads of potatoes in the kitchen. It was a dull task, but I didn't mind it, so long as I had someone to talk to.  
  
"Marigold is off with that Tom Cotton again," she announced, looking at me knowledgeably with a raised eyebrow.  
  
I laughed. "You mustn't tease her," I said. "You know that she likes him an awful lot."  
  
May shrugged, and picked up another potato. "She can bring him back here then. If he likes her then he'll peel as many potatoes as she wants."  
  
I laughed again at her slightly indignant tone. "Leave her be," I said. "You'll get to dress up all nice for the wedding, at any rate."  
  
When winter came Sam was not up at Bag End very often, and sometimes I didn't see Frodo for weeks. I thought this was for the best. After not seeing him for a while I found it easier to forget or ignore my feelings. Winter came and went, and soon it was Spring again. Sam began to go up to Bag End every day, and the routine began again.  
  
"Daisy?"  
  
I heard my mother calling from the kitchen, then she stepped into the room where I was sitting, curled up in the rocking chair with a book on my lap. My reading was improving, and I had discovered a love for stories and songs that had previously been hidden.  
  
"Daisy? Why are you staying cooped up inside?" She asked briskly. I felt my spirits sink slightly as I saw what she held in her hands.  
  
I shrugged. "I just don't feel like going outdoors."  
  
"Well, make yourself useful. Take Sam up his lunch." She passed me the usual bundle, and I felt it with a vague dislike for the duty that came with it.  
  
I paused, trying to think up an excuse. "I've got mending to do," I said lamely.  
  
"It can wait,." my mother called from the kitchen. "I thought you liked going up to Bag End."  
  
Deciding there was no way out, I pulled on my cloak and huddled the bundle to my side. It was strange to think that only last year I would have jumped at the chance, but now I dreaded it. I knew that if I saw Frodo I would make a fool of myself and then the daydreams would begin again. Before I left I glanced at myself in the hallway mirror, and unhappily wrinkled my nose. My hair was looking lank and dull. I wished that I had full curls, like Rosie Cotton did. And why couldn't my cheeks be a little rosier? I turned from the mirror and, dragging my feet, I reluctantly went to find Sam.  
  
"Daisy!"  
  
I jumped, and span around. It was Frodo, standing in the doorway of Bag End.  
  
"I haven't seen you for ages," he said, smiling and stepping out over the doorstep.  
  
I smiled back, and felt the butterflies in my stomach return.  
  
"I've been busy," I replied.  
  
"I see," Frodo said. "Well, Sam's clipping the hedge." He nodded his head, gesturing to where the sound of Sam's shears was coming from.  
  
"Thank you," I said.  
  
I was almost unable to move my feet. I knew that I should move, it was like I was frozen. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words would come. Frodo looked at me for a moment, slightly puzzled but with a small smile playing about his lips. Then he nodded politely, then turned away and went back inside. I was left rooted to the spot.  
  
Eventually I turned and wandered over to where Sam was working. I scowled and kicked a small stone that lay on the path. I hated the awkwardness between us. It had never been there before, it seemed to appear after we had danced at the party. That made me think, and I stopped in my tracks. I looked thoughtfully at the stone that I had just kicked, lying still a few feet in front of me. Perhaps, just perhaps, Frodo felt something too. A smile spread across my lips as I grasped onto this new hope. I gave Sam his lunch and stayed to talk with him as he ate. I practically skipped home.  
  
My new found hope did not last long. Nothing happen, no undying love was announced suddenly and unexpectedly. Slowly I accepted that Frodo would never fall for me like I had for him. Spring turned into summer, summer into winter, and the years passed unnoticeably. Every year Frodo gave parties up at Bag End, but none as big or extravagant as The Party, as it was now known. The daily routine continued, and Frodo and I went back to politely greeting each other, but no more. 'Acting neighbourly' was what my Gaffer called it. Looking back on it now, I don't know how I let that time slip through my fingers so foolishly.  
  
Of course I still thought about him, but my true feelings lay dormant for those quiet years. I had taught myself to repress and ignore them, and I grew used to denying that they were there at all. But I was growing older, and so was Frodo. I was nearing my 45th year when something unexpected happened. 


	5. Chapter Five

Authors note: Thanks to my reviewers, I love getting your messages! I don't have too much to say, except for I hope that this chapter isn't too clichéd.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
I was carrying a basket of fabric down to Bywater, an errand that I did every month. I had embroidered it nicely, and I would sell it to someone on the market for a fair price. It helped us to get by, and I knew I had to earn my keep. Besides, I enjoyed it, and would have done it for nothing, if we hadn't needed the money. Our family was poor, not terribly, but more so than others. We never went without, but still had to work hard to put food on the table. It was a Wednesday morning in December, the weather was breezy but not terribly cold, and I hurried down the hill faster than usual, for I was late. It was about a mile into Bywater and the market had probably already begun. I broke into a run, slipping slightly on the road for the ground was damp. As I turned a corner I lost my footing and my toe caught on a loose stone. I crashed to the floor in a muddle of skirts and rolls of cotton. I watched in dismay as four of the rolls slowly bowled down the hill, and I quickly gathered the other ones to me and put them back in the basket. I wiped the dust from my dress and knees, which were both grazed and messy with blood. Cursing silently at myself for being so foolish, I took a corner of my skirt and tried to clean up the cuts as best I could. I winced as the fabric touched the raw skin, and gritted my teeth. Then I heard footsteps approaching me from behind. I sighed heavily. This was all I needed.  
  
"Daisy? Is that you?"  
  
I recognised that voice. Turning, I saw Frodo hurrying towards me with a worried expression on his face.  
  
"I thought it was," he said, crouching down beside me. "Whatever happened? Are you all right?"  
  
I wrinkled up my nose. This was neither the time nor the place that I wanted Frodo to see me. "It's all right, I just grazed my knees. I tripped over a stone and...oh no!" I clapped a hand to my mouth, and any attempts at dignity were lost. "My fabric!" I looked in dismay at the four rolls that lay at the bottom of the road.  
  
"Not to worry," Frodo said. He deftly gathered it up for me as I pulled myself up from the ground, wincing as I put weight on my legs. He placed the material carefully in my basket, and then observed me in a concerned manner.  
  
"Here, take my arm," he offered. I leant on him, grateful for the support, and he picked up my basket with his free arm.  
  
"Those cuts look nasty. If you come with me I can clean them up properly," he offered kindly.  
  
I nodded in agreement, and hobbled along beside him. I was feeling very annoyed with myself for falling, but a part of me was rather glad that Frodo had found me.  
  
Frodo unlocked the front door and lead me into the kitchen. A small fire was burning in the hearth, and the room was warm and inviting. He pulled out a chair for me to sit on and then busied himself with warming up water while I sat watching him while his back was turned. He bought a bowl of hot water, a towel and something in a bottle over to me and laid them at my feet. He dampened the towel and then gently began to clean up both of my knees. When the dirt was gone he dabbed a little of the strong smelling liquid from the bottle onto a corner the towel.  
  
"This will sting a little," he announced, "but it will clean you up properly."  
  
He was right, it did sting. I gritted my teeth and made no sound. I didn't want him thinking that I was weak as well as clumsy.  
  
"There," he said, observing the grazes with a critical eye.  
  
He made to get up, and our eyes met for a fleeting second. He paused, momentarily delayed by something invisible yet strong, then he straightened his back and I glanced out over my shoulder, pretending to look out of the window.  
  
"Would you like some tea?" he asked from over by the kettle.  
  
"Yes, that would be nice," I replied. I needed something to drink, at any rate.  
  
I watched as he poured water and stirred milk, then he came and sat beside me. As he passed me a cup our hands brushed and I felt my skin tingle. We sipped our drinks in silence, then after a few minutes Frodo spoke.  
  
"I don't see you up in the garden as often," he said. I wasn't sure if he was just making conversation or was actually concerned that I did not visit.  
  
"I have had a lot of things to do." I said, and then realising that that was a terrible excuse, I continued. "May and I have had mending to do, and the Gaffer is not...well he's not getting any younger. There are a lot of jobs."  
  
Frodo nodded. "I see." He faltered, obviously unsure of himself. "Well, I...I like to see you."  
  
All the time we had been speaking I had been staring into my mug, but then I looked up, and saw that Frodo was looking directly at me. I turned my face towards his, and our eyes met for the second time that day. This time neither of us looked away. I was powerless and felt as if I was entranced by his gaze. It was soft yet intense. My heart began to beat faster and I was tingling all over. As we sat he falteringly lifted his hand and brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Then, instead of moving his hand away he left it there, gently touching my cheek. I sat as if I was in a daze, my lips slightly parted and my eyes wide. I wanted to move, I wanted to lean over and kiss him but I couldn't. We sat as still as statues. Slowly, I leaned ever so slightly in. I could hear his breath and smell his clean, slightly musky sent. Then all of a sudden, like a bucket of cold water, reality washed over me again. My hand flew heedlessly to my mouth and I gasped. Frodo, almost guiltily, moved his hand away and broke my gaze, bowing his head. My reaction had shocked him and I wished that I could take it back. The moment was shattered but I couldn't help it.  
  
"Oh mercy me!" I exclaimed after having an immense rush of thought in less than a second. "The fabric! My mother is going to be so angry!"  
  
Frodo got up from his chair, and caught his breath for a second. "I'll go and get your basket," he announced, hurrying from the room.  
  
I was left to brood on what could have happened as I collected myself. I dabbed at my eyes with my apron and smoothed my hair. I was all out of sorts. Why did I do that? Couldn't the cursed fabric have waited? I scowled at my stupidity. Something had happened, something amazing. And I had spoilt it.  
  
"Daisy, you fool." I muttered. Then I got up, collected my basket and rushed out of the door, too embarrassed and ashamed of myself to say goodbye to Frodo, who was left holding the front door looking bewildered. And could I blame him? If I didn't quite know what had happened then how on earth could he be expected to? It was a mess all right, a proper mess. 


	6. Chapter Six

Authors note: Thanks to my reviewers, all your comments mean a lot to me! Hilary, I try to update regularly, but because of school commitments (and evil German homework) I'm sometimes delayed. I try to update at least once a week, more if I have time. Obelia medusa, I think that Daisy went off with Frodo because she was secretly flattered that he had asked her, and it pushed her errands out of her head. She didn't protest because I wanted her sudden start to come more out of the blue, because her previous plans had been forgotten by the shock and distraction of meeting Frodo. Hope that made sense! Thank you for your comment. Mojo, don't worry. things may get sweeter yet ;) Anya, I love Frodo fics, and I'm flattered that you consider mine to be one of your favourites.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
In the end I got the fabric to it's rightful place, but I lost money on the ones that were soiled with dirt. After I had run my errands I hurried back up the lane with my empty basket with my head bowed. I didn't look up at Bag End once. I stayed indoors all that day, not wanting to have to face anyone, least of all Frodo. The happenings of this morning had confused and muddled me. I was a mess and kept on playing the scene over again and again in my mind, the horrible feeling in my stomach becoming worse as I dwelled on what I had done. We had almost kissed, but now I knew we never would. I had messed it up and now Frodo would certainly be convinced that he could do without me. I avoided him religiously; I no longer took up Sam's food and made excuses not to run errands up that way. Everyone could sense that something was wrong but I would say nothing. I never would, not to anyone. I was ashamed, and deserved to be. I managed to stay away from Frodo for over two months, or maybe it was the other way around. My reaction had shocked him and he was probably as confused as I was. Perhaps he was avoiding me.  
  
One Monday morning in late February there was a knock at our door. I was the only one in (I was spending a lot of time at home these days) so I went and opened it. Standing on our doorstep was Frodo, the last person I had expected. I breathed in sharply when I saw him standing with a humble expression on his face and my heart began to thump uncomfortably hard in my chest as it was sometimes custom to do. For a second Frodo opened his mouth silently and if I had not been so surprised I might have laughed, for he looked rather comical. Then he took a breath, and spoke.  
  
"I'd like to talk with you, Daisy. I don't think it's right that we avoid each other like this. Would you come for a walk?" His eyes were almost beseeching me, and how could I refuse? Perhaps I secretly wanted to talk to him about what happened as well.  
  
"Let me get my cloak," I said, and hurried indoors to grab my old brown cloak from the hook in the hall. I tied it over my shoulders and followed Frodo down the lane. We walked side by side in silence. I don't think either of us wanted to say anything until we were completely alone. We walked a little way up the Water until we were out of Hobbiton, and we sat down on a grassy bank under a large oak tree. The water was trickling by merrily, and the grass was comfortable but there was a chill in the air for it was not yet Spring. I drew my cloak around my shoulders.  
  
"I'm sorry," Frodo said, realising that I was cold. "I shouldn't have brought you outside."  
  
"No," I replied, rubbing my arms. "I'm fine."  
  
"Here," he said. "Take mine. I don't need it." He untied his cloak and gently pulled it around my shoulders. I smiled in thanks. Silence again, nothing but the wind rustling past the trees and the water flowing endlessly past us.  
  
"What happened?" he asked quietly. He was staring at the floor and his face looked rather hurt, a hint of sadness played about his eyes. I sensed that we didn't need to beat around the bush about the events in Bag End kitchen. I also knew that it was my place to explain and apologise, for I was in the wrong and I hated myself for it.  
  
"I don't know." I answered softly, unsure of what to say. It was so hard to explain to him how I felt. Then the words began to come. "I was confused, I was rude, I was...I was wrong."  
  
Frodo turned to look at me. "Wrong?"  
  
"I shouldn't have done what I did..." The words trailed off. It was no good. I would have to tell him the truth. Everything, it would help him understand.  
  
I took a deep breath. "I like you a lot. I don't know why I ran away like I did, I was stupid." Now I was babbling uncomfortably. "But you've got to know that I like you and..."  
  
I didn't have the chance to say anymore, for Frodo kissed me. He leant over and softly placed his lips upon mine. For a moment I was so surprised I almost pulled back, but then I shut my eyes and leant forward. I could feel his lips, warm and gentle. Then he pulled away, and turned his head from mine.  
  
"I...I..." his voice trailed off. Maybe he felt that he had to apologise for kissing me so suddenly. I didn't want him to. Everything seemed to be falling into place.  
  
"Don't," I whispered. Then I put my hand carefully on his face and leant forwards, kissing him back. This time the kiss lasted longer. I could smell his skin and his hair and feel his lips on mine. All that I could think of was Frodo, my world was his and we were together. I looped my arm slowly around his neck and I felt his hand on my waist. We moved together and the kiss deepened. I can honestly say that I did not want it to end. All the worry I had been feeling gradually melted away.  
  
We pulled apart, and gazed into each other's eyes, our noses barely inches apart. Then I could contain it no longer and let laughter spring out from my lips, happy, joyous, relieved laughter. A bemused smile crossed Frodo's lips, and I flung my arms around his shoulders. I can honestly say I had never been so forward in my whole life, but it felt good.  
  
Then we lay back on the bank, watching the clouds pass in the cold blue sky. He moved his arm around my shoulder and I settled myself in the crook of his arm. I felt so comfortable, and I lay still, enjoying the simple feeling of someone beside me. In those moments I was truly happy, but now I only wish there could have been more of them.  
  
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	7. Chapter Seven

Authors note: A happy chapter today. I'm afraid that Daisy has stolen a Gandalf line from the movie, but I liked it and thought that it would fit. As always, cheers to my reviewers! Obelia medusa, of course it's not the end! As they say in Grease, it's just the beginning. Mysticaleopard, glad you like it. Sweet fics are always fun, and I'm not really into slash. Anya, thanks! Mojo, yeah, Frodo's still going on the quest :( but right now we have some squiffy happiness. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
"You haven't aged a day."  
  
It was about a week after the fateful kiss, and I was up at Bag End with Frodo. Rather a turn around, it was just two weeks ago that I was avoiding it like the plague. Since the kiss we seemed to be a lot more open with each other, and the nervousness and awkwardness was almost gone.  
  
I was sitting across from Frodo, letting my eyes drift over his face. He still looked so youthful, almost the same as when I had gazed at him from afar at The Party. Surprisingly, my comment seemed to trouble him. His eyes wandered and he grasped his cup harder than usual. Then he let out a laugh as if to dismiss my comment, but it didn't seem to reach his eyes.  
  
"I'm well preserved, I suppose," he said. "Like Bilbo."  
  
I nodded slowly, still curious. But I did not press the matter for I sensed that Frodo was uncomfortable with it.  
  
Not many people knew about Frodo and me. I had only told May, two days earlier. She had been over the moon, which I was not surprised about. May had always been a gossip and loved to know new stories. But I had sworn her to secrecy.  
  
"Oh, Daisy!" she had said, laughing happily. I was slightly embarrassed but happy at her reaction.  
  
"It's about time too! Oh, I always *knew* you liked him, I always knew." Then she giggled and hugged me. Her excitement was almost contagious.  
  
I suspected that Frodo had told Sam, for he winked at me knowingly one evening at home. "Coming to Bag End?" he asked the next morning, his spade slung over his shoulder as he walked up to the gardens. He smiled mischievously as I got up to follow him.  
  
Maybe other people began to guess, my mother hugged me tight one evening when I returned from Bag End and said simply, "You couldn't have chosen better". But hobbits are often reserved about their courting, until they are to be married, anyway. Still, we had decided to keep it to ourselves for a while, until we felt like telling people. We were both rather private, and I generally let on to nosing hobbits that we were just friends.  
  
"And what would they think? Frodo Baggins courting a Gamgee?" I said, joking but at the same time serious. Frodo said nothing, only smiled and kissed me on the cheek. I guessed that he didn't care what other people thought, and I was glad of it. I loved spending time with him. He took delight in showing me new things, when we walked together he told me the names of the trees and flowers and recited tales of the Elves and Dwarves in the evenings when we sat together in Bag End. In return I told him things that had happened to me, and although they were not half as good as his stories, he roared with laughter and proclaimed that someday we should write them down. I enjoyed simply being in his company, and did not need any grand gestures of love.  
  
Day by day, it felt like I was coming out of my shell. I laughed more and frowned less, even the old Gaffer noticed a change in me. One morning I was in the kitchen, singing to myself as I arranged some daffodils in a vase. I had not noticed him standing in the doorway, but when I turned I saw him looking at me with raised eyebrows and a smile on his lips.  
  
"I have not seen you this happy in a long time, lass," he said thoughtfully. I blushed and turned back to my flowers. "All those visits to Bag End must be doing wonders," he continued, looking at me knowingly. I blushed harder, but could not stop myself smiling.  
  
"I don't know what you mean," I said coyly, briskly putting the vase on the windowsill. Then I wiped my hands on a cloth and flounced out of the room with my nose in the air. I laughed to myself; the Gaffer knew that I was only play-acting. I could hear him chuckling to himself as he went out to the garden. But he was right. I had changed, for the better, I thought. I had never had any real interests or talents, taking my pleasure from simple things, like bright days and Spring-time. And I'd always felt plain and uninteresting, I was never pretty or nice-looking. But now I could look in the mirror without scowling or tugging at my hair. I was feeling happy.  
  
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	8. Chapter Eight

Authors note: This chapter was so hard to write! I hope it satisfies. Anyway, it's nearly Christmas and finally I'm off school. I hope to have chapter nine up pretty sharpish. Thanks to all my reviewers, I love hearing from you. I really hope that this chapter isn't too awful.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
One evening we were sitting in the garden quietly under the stars. It was now March and the weather was getting finer. Frodo was not speaking much, and had not some so for quite a while. I got the feeling that something was bothering him. I did not ask him what, but left it to him to tell me when he was ready.  
  
"Daisy," he said, turning to look at me. I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous though I did not know why. Something told me that it was not good news.  
  
"I am afraid that I must go away."  
  
"Go away?" I frowned, confused. "Where? How long?"  
  
Frodo sighed reluctantly. "I am moving to Crickhollow, in Buckland."  
  
"Buckland?" I exclaimed, too shocked to remember to keep my voice down. "But that's...that's miles away! What about your beautiful hobbit hole?" And although I wanted to, I couldn't quite bring myself to add 'what about me?'  
  
Frodo took hold of my hand and look at me sincerely. "I'm very sorry Daisy. I've got to go. I know that it's hard to understand and I probably can't make you, but it is for the best. I promise you."  
  
I turned my head away and felt tears in my eyes. My cheeks felt hot and I was filled with confusion. I couldn't comprehend the situation and didn't want to try. All that I could truly understand that Frodo was leaving, and not coming back. I sniffed and felt a lump in my throat.  
  
"Why?" I said softly. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I was past caring.  
  
Frodo drew his arm around my shoulders in a comforting manner and pulled me close to him. I clung on like I was about to loose him any minute.  
  
"I don't know how to tell you," he answered. "I don't want to lie but there are some things that you can't know, not until later. But Daisy, you've got to believe me. I must go to Buckland. I don't want to go, but I must. Do you understand?"  
  
I didn't, for I knew that there was something he was not telling me.  
  
"What's wrong?" I questioned. "Why can't you tell me? Is something wrong? Is it something to do with Bilbo's gold? Can't you afford to keep Bag End anymore?"  
  
"It's something like that," he said, sighing softly. "It's to do with the gold, yes." He paused, and then spoke again. "But you must know that going away is the only thing I can do. I don't have a choice. Please, just tell me that you see."  
  
"But it's Buckland, Frodo," I said. "Why must you move so far?"  
  
"I know," he said, looking at me. "I know." His voice trailed off for a moment and I sat in silence, staring into the growing darkness. "I have no choice. I have to leave, and it hurts that I can't fully explain why. I don't want to go, and I don't want to treat you like this. You must believe me, I would never try to hurt you. But I must go. I must."  
  
The desperate edge to his voice convinced me that he was being truthful. I had never known him to lie, not to me or anyone else. I could see the sadness and hopelessness in his eyes. I decided not to push him for information anymore; I knew he had told me all he could.  
  
"I can't say that I do completely understand," I said at last. "But I know that you must go, and I will have to trust you."  
  
My heart felt heavy as I spoke those words. I had only just found him, and now I was about to loose him again. Then I began to cry properly. I hated crying in front of people but I couldn't help it. Frodo said nothing, only rocked me gently in his arms. I felt horrible, horrible for so many reasons. I hated not understanding, I hated not knowing. I hated the fact that I felt angry at him; even though he had told me that it wasn't his fault. I couldn't imagine Bag End without him. And the worst thing was that I couldn't go with him. He hadn't asked me, and that hurt me so much. I wondered if he was leaving to get rid of me. Maybe he didn't care for me at all.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said softly as I wept into his shoulder. "I'm truly, truly sorry."  
  
*-* 


	9. Chapter Nine

Authors Note: Many thanks to my reviewers. Kirjava2, I'm going as fast as I can :) I'm glad you like it, and all I can say is: keep reading! Your questions will be answered. Obelia medusa, it's been very hard for me to decide just how much Frodo should tell Daisy. I hope I've got it about right. Silverelf, nice to hear from you! Your reviews have been very helpful; when this fic is all uploaded I will go back and correct everything you've pointed out, and probably a whole lot more. I always try to revise my fics at some point. I always get so muddled with tenses. :( Mojo, totally agreeing with you about the Ring. And RotK was very awesome, and I didn't cry once (as cold as a stone, that's me). Anyway, on with the fic.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Frodo told me that he was going to leave in September. His friend Merry Brandybuck had found him a hole in Buckland and he was to move on his birthday, no later. He was taking Sam with him. Now I was not only loosing Frodo, but Sam as well. Frodo was selling Bag End to the Sackville- Bagginses.  
  
"Why them?" I had asked. I thought that he disliked them.  
  
"They have a right to it," he answered simply.  
  
September seemed to be creeping up on me already. I had only a few months remaining to be with Frodo until he left. Buckland seemed like the other side of the world to me. Every time I thought of Frodo gone and the Sackville-Bagginses living in his Bag End I felt like crying. I didn't though. I felt as if I had to be strong. The leaving must have been so hard for Frodo, and I didn't have to make it any more difficult than it already was. Still, soon it was summer. A beautiful summer we had that year, hot and lush. I spent time with Frodo, but not as much as I'd have liked. Our meetings seemed rather sad. As summer was closing we took a walk up the Water, and came to the place where we had sat last February. I smiled at the memories as we sat down in the same spot.  
  
"I am to be leaving soon," Frodo said. "A week or two."  
  
I cast my eyes to the floor. I had not realised that it was that close.  
  
"I'd like you to have this," he continued. Then he passed me an envelope sealed with a wax stamp. I looked at it, and then went to open it.  
  
"No, not yet." Frodo caught my hand. "You must wait until I am gone, long gone."  
  
I creased my brow, and waited for him to explain.  
  
"It will explain why I must go. But Daisy, remember to always keep the letter hidden. And you must tell no one. Not a living soul."  
  
"You have my word," I promised solemnly. "But I can't read, at least, not very well." Sam had passed on to me what Bilbo had taught him, and as the years went on I was able to read simple passages. Not as well as I'd have liked, but enough to get by.  
  
"Don't worry," Frodo assured me. "You'll be fine."  
  
I smiled at him gratefully. It was good of him to explain properly to me and to care enough to want to. It made me feel slightly better about the situation.  
  
"Thank you Daisy," he said, taking hold of my hand. "Thank you for being so understanding."  
  
I squeezed his hand and leant into his side. We hugged comfortingly and sat together for a time.  
  
"Well, I can visit, can't I?" I said brightly, trying my best to look on the bright side of things.  
  
Frodo looked at me sadly. "Remember the letter. It will explain everything."  
  
I was beginning to feel confused all over again. Why couldn't I visit? And in the recesses of my mind I wondered again why he had not asked for me to come with him. Did he really not want me to? I pondered over this for a long time, and finally decided to simply trust him. He said it would tell me everything in the letter, and I believed him. Soon after that we headed home, and said goodbye at the door of Bag End. I walked slowly home, my heart heavy with impending sadness. The first thing I did when I got inside was to tuck Frodo's letter away safe under my pillow. It was more precious than gold to me.  
  
Everything was very busy up at Bag End. Frodo's furniture was sent up to Buckland by cart, and it all seemed very bare. Sam was helping him, and then it was the day of his birthday. I stayed indoors, watching the comings and goings from the window. I did not want to disturb Frodo, for he was having a birthday supper with his friends. I hoped that I would get to see him before he went. The whole family was sad that he was going, and wished that he could stay. Sam was going to be missed. The Gaffer grumbled about it every spare moment.  
  
"Sackville-Bagginses? What's he selling it to them for? Must be a more decent family around somewhere."  
  
I could hear him now; for the back door was open and he was shovelling soil about, probably wishing that it was a Sackville-Baggins on the end of his spade.  
  
Sam said goodbye to us all at about two o'clock. It made me sad to see him go, and I wept a little into the apple tree at the back of the garden after he left. He was a good lad; we were going to miss him about the house. It was dark when Frodo came over, on the day after his party. It was a quick visit, for he was walking with Sam and young Peregrin Took under the stars that night. As I saw him coming up the path I hurried outside to meet him, not wanting to disturb anyone. We went to the side of the house and stood under the branches of the apple tree, the same one I had cried under just hours earlier.  
  
"Don't forget me," Frodo had said. This had mystified me.  
  
"I'd never forget you!" I said, somewhat indignantly. He smiled, though his eyes looked sad.  
  
"Don't worry," I said. "I will see you again soon."  
  
Then we kissed for the last time, clasping hands tightly. I felt the softness of his lips, touched his hair and his face and felt the warmth and closeness of his body. Then he pulled away and was gone, and for the second time that day I christened the bark of the old apple tree with my tears.  
  
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	10. Chapter Ten

Authors note: This chapter was very hard (I'm beginning to say that about every chapter, bear with me) in general; I wasn't sure how to write the Scouring from Daisy's perspective. Farmer Cotton's explanation in that chapter helped a lot, but I hope it's all right! Tara the dreamer, I'm pretty sure that Bilbo was Frodo's cousin, but I'll check, because I'm wrong an awful lot. Thanks for reviewing! Silverelf, you win the award for the maddest review I've ever received! Great stuff though, thanks. Kirjava2, sadly, things go downhill for Daisy a little. Oh well, it's gotta happen I guess. This update is a little late, so apologies from me, but as it's Christmas I demand a nice festive review!   
  
Chapter Ten  
  
After Frodo left all the troubles seemed to begin. His leaving was like a trigger, sending everything off and rolling into near chaos. Lotho came to Bag End, and I knew that things would begin to go wrong. He began lording it about and buying things, firstly the mill and then other places, the inns and the farms. Winter was approaching and we needed all the supplies we could get. Lotho (or 'Pimple' as we had taken to calling him) had been sending things away for a while, pipeweed mostly, but then he began to send away food and ale. People began to get angry, but he always had a clever answer and nothing was ever done. Soon after that the ruffians came. Great, brutish men, tall and threatening. I was terrified of them. They tore down trees and built ugly sheds, but the worst times were to follow. One day a ruffian came to our door, and rapped on it loudly. The Gaffer answered it, and I hid around the corner, listening to what was being said. I could not hear everything, but I certainly got the idea. We had to leave. They were going to knock down Bagshot Row. After several minutes of heated discussion the ruffian finally left. The Gaffer saw me peer around the door and came over to me.  
  
"We've got to go," he said wearily, passing a hand over his forehead. "I don't hold with it, not one bit, but they said we've got to. I wouldn't like to know what would happen to us if we didn't." Then he patted me on the shoulder and left me alone.  
  
That year was the worst of my life. Two days after Frodo left I locked myself in my room and retrieved his letter from under my pillow. I decided that it was the right time to open it. I slit it open with my thumb and pulled out a sheet of parchment. I poured over it for a long while, and it was some time until I understood completely. Here is what it said, to the best of my ability.  
  
Daisy,  
  
By the time you open this I will probably be in Buckland. I know you will keep what I tell you a secret, for I trust you completely. I will not be staying Buckland for any longer than two days. Sam and I are leaving the Shire. Your guess was partly right, it is to do with Bilbo's gold. Whilst Bilbo was off adventuring he found a ring. He kept it a secret, and I will not explain the whole history of the thing to you, but it is evil. It belonged to the Dark Lord; it was made in the far land of Mordor. If he gets this Ring he will be able to come back to power. That is why I must leave. I am taking it somewhere that it will be safe. It's my job and my responsibility and I have no other choice. The chances are that I will not return. This is the hardest thing to tell you, and I wish that it were not in a letter. Our journey will be dangerous and hard, and I don't even fully know where we are headed. But I will miss you with all of my heart, and I know that I will think of you often. Frodo.  
  
The information came as a shock to me, and my first feeling was one of disbelief. Dark Lord? I had heard people talk of a place called Mordor, and it sounded like a truly horrible place. Frodo had said written that it was hard to tell me, but it was probably harder for me, and tears came into my eyes as I read his words. I wished furtively that he was here with me, and my heart mourned his absence.  
  
The chances are that I won't return.  
  
That line jumped at me and haunted me. I may never see him again. He was gone forever. It made me wonder why I had been so upset about him moving to Buckland. I now wished with all my heart that it was true. Even after reading that line many times it still didn't sink in. I still expected to see him waving from Bag End, and it felt odd not to be taking Sam's lunch up anymore. I read over the letter countless times that afternoon.  
  
The days and the months dragged. We stayed at the Cottons as Bagshot Row was being knocked down, who very kindly looked after us and gave us food even though they weren't allowed to. The Rules forbade them. I could no longer bear to go anywhere near where we used to live. Every time I saw the mess and wreckage I felt terribly sad. Then we were moved into our new house, an ugly brick built thing, uncomfortable and un-homely as you could get. Bagshot Row was nothing but a pit now.  
  
The Shire was a mess. They started putting people in the Lock Holes in Michael Delving. They took the Mayor, and poor Fatty Bolger. We were living off the paltry supplies that the ruffians gave us. They took away all the nice things for themselves. No pipe weed for the Gaffer, and just plain and simple food for us. One week we lived off nothing but pickled beetroot and stewed beans. In the winter the new house was cold and the Gaffer was often ill. Mother spent all her time looking after him, and our money was running out. And I was more miserable than ever before. The only person I could properly speak to was May. I told her everything, pouring out my thoughts for hours. We sat huddled in the corner when the nights were especially cold, sharing our blankets. I told her how much I hated Frodo not being here and how much I missed him, but I did not breath a word about the letter. I had promised him. May tried to help me. She gently told me that he was not coming back, trying to prepare me for the worst. For now everyone knew that Frodo Baggins had gone. Word travels fast, and we now knew that the hole at Crickhollow was deserted and Frodo and Sam, along with Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took, had gone. No one new where, not even me. But still I believed that he was coming back. I couldn't give up hope, for it was now about the only thing I had left.  
  
"Daisy," May said late one night. "You've got to accept it. He's gone."  
  
I opened my mouth to disagree, but couldn't find the strength. Perhaps she was right. I was being stupid, getting my hopes up. There's no use, not any more. May knew that her words had finally made an impression. She felt bad, but I knew she was telling the truth, only trying to help me.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said softly, patting me on the shoulder as I sat feeling utterly miserable. "But don't worry. Things will go right soon. They have to. They can't get any worse than this."  
  
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	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven  
  
We had wasted so much time.  
  
This thought kept me awake, long into the night. Seventeen years, seventeen long, empty years spent lusting over Frodo. Why did I keep it to myself for so long? I was too quiet for my own good, too shy, too timid. So un-hobbit like, I thought sometimes. I wished that I could be more open with my thoughts, but somehow they always seemed to stay trapped inside my head. But Frodo was the only hobbit I had ever truly loved. Of course, I had courted a few other hobbits in my time but never for very long. It was never properly serious, a few bouquets of flowers and kisses on the cheek. Then they seemed to move their affections elsewhere, but it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. They never seemed right for me. May called me too choosy for my own good. I disagreed; I simply didn't want to settle for just anyone. Marigold was to marry Tom Cotton in the Spring, but then the ruffians came, along with whispers of someone called 'Sharkey', who I never saw. All thoughts of weddings were lost. I knew there was something special between Sam and Rosie, but now Sam was gone as well. I missed my brother terribly, his smiling face no longer lightening the mood of the house. He would have had a thing or two to say to those ruffians, that's for sure. But at that time I could not see things getting any better. Things just got worse.  
  
"They've cut down the trees along the Bywater road," the Gaffer announced grimly one morning.  
  
"Not those beautiful trees?" my mother exclaimed, looking horrified.  
  
"Aye lass," the Gaffer replied. "They're burning and cutting things down, and doing nowt in the way of repairs. By the way they're going they'll be no Shire left by Yule."  
  
I looked at him in aghast. No Shire? Things were bad then. Some days I couldn't face going outdoors at all. It hurt me so to see the Shire that all of us loved being destroyed heartlessly.  
  
"What next?" my mother said wearily. The Gaffer went over to her and put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.  
  
"I don't know lass. I don't know."  
  
Hope was thin. Any hobbits that had rebelled were thrown instantly in the Lockholes. Only the Tooks were holding their own, but they were far away and of no use to us. I couldn't see any light at the end of this darkness and was beginning to despair, until one evening in November when Marigold came whirling into the house. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and on her face was a wide smile.  
  
"You're not going to believe it!" she laughed happily.  
  
"What?" I asked. She flew into my arms and span me around, laughing gaily all the time. I was mystified at her behaviour.  
  
"He's back!" she exclaimed at last, drawing breath and smiling. "Frodo's back!"  
  
I don't know how long I stared at her with my mouth gaping open, wide enough to catch a fly or two, no doubt. Marigold was oblivious to my shock. She was dancing around the kitchen like a fairy, almost singing in her happiness.  
  
"He brought back our Sam!" she laughed. "And Mister Peregrin and Mister Merry! They're back, and they're taking charge!"  
  
"Wha...?" I uttered, too startled to even speak properly.  
  
"You missed it all, Daisy. I was outside and I saw it all. They came riding up dressed all funny, with swords and great mail coats. The ruffians were after them, it seems that they broke arrest or something. And Frodo sent them packing. But they'll be more, mark my words. They'll be a battle sooner or later. But the Shire folk are roused now." Marigold turned to me, smiling happily. "Don't you see? They're going to leave! The ruffians I mean. It's all over! And everything's so confusing and my head's in a muddle."  
  
Then she paused and looked at me. I was still in a state of shock and staring at her with wide eyes.  
  
"Aren't you happy?" she asked, more quietly and with a note of confusion in her voice.  
  
"Yes...yes," I said slowly. Cautiously I went over the information in my head. Frodo was back. The words that had at first refused to sink in slowly began to ink into my mind. Then I let out a gradual smile, and realisation dawned like the slow light of day. He was back! He was alive and well and he was coming back to me at last. I let out a laugh and felt joy spread out over my body like a warm, delicious drink. I hugged Marigold tightly.  
  
"Yes, I am happy," I said at last, smiling like I hadn't in days.  
  
At that moment the Gaffer came in, and seeing us looking cheerful came over.  
  
"Now," he began. "I know that it's good news and all but there's still trouble brewing. I don't want neither of you going outside until its safe."  
  
I looked at him, dismayed. I so wanted to see Frodo. But perhaps he was right, there still might be ruffians about and they would be angry now the hobbits had rebelled. I nodded in agreement.  
  
"Good girls," he said. "I must be off; I'll be out most of the day. Sam is about and I'll be wanting words with him. And there's things to be done. Mess to clean." He wandered off, frowning slightly, but underneath his unruffled exterior I knew that he was just as happy as we were.  
  
Marigold and I sat at the kitchen table and talked more brightly than we had done in weeks. I could feel hope again, and the despair I had felt daily was leaving me. Finally, things were beginning to look up.  
  
*-* 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Authors Note: Lady of the Wingnuts, I always felt sad that Frodo never really ended up with anyone, which is why I introduced Daisy. I figured that there must have been *someone*. Obelia medusa, thanks for your comments. Tinania, well, here the reunion is. Hope it satisfies. Thanks to all my other reviewers, you're very valued! Another quick note, my story 'What News of Boromir, my Lord?" has been revised and extended. If you'd like to, take a look!  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
As it turned out, I didn't see Frodo for at least a week after he returned. The Gaffer didn't allow any of us outside until everything was sorted out, he did not want us put in danger. Sam came back almost straight away, but would not fully tell us where he had been or what had happened. We hugged tightly, the whole family weeping in happiness. At the time I did not care what had been going on outside of the Shire. I knew that I would find out in time.  
  
"Where's Frodo?" I asked casually one day. Sam was busy a lot of the time; the hobbits had already begun to get the Shire back in order. 'Many hands make light work', the Gaffer often said, and it seemed to be true in this case. Already things were going back to how they had used to. Bagshot Row was being rebuilt, and Bag End. The inns were opening again and crops were being planted.  
  
"He's staying at the Cotton's," Sam answered, looking over at me with a slight gleam in his eye. "Bag End will be ready soon though. A week or two, then he'll never know anything had happened."  
  
Sam had changed, I thought to myself as I watched him bustle about the house. His face was somewhat sterner; he seemed more aware of things, and quieter. Wiser, that's the word. I couldn't help but wonder what he had been through, what had happened that changed him so.  
  
But now I had another decision to make. Should I go and see Frodo? After pondering for a long time and scolding myself for my shyness, I pulled on my cloak and pushed open the door. The Gaffer had finally allowed us out again a few days ago. I strode up the road, passing Bywater Pool on my way. I felt warmth in my heart as I saw the wreckage slowly disappearing. Then I made my way up the dusty farm track approaching the Cotton's farm house. I paused in front of the door, my hand hovering inches away. I could not quite bring myself to knock. I wondered why I was suddenly so shy. Perhaps it was because I had been imagining a wonderfully romantic meeting, with me running into his arms. But it didn't look like that was going to happen. I pushed my thoughts aside, took a determined breath and rapped my knuckles firmly against the wood. A pause, then Farmer Cotton opened the door and smiled broadly when he saw me.  
  
"Good morning Miss Gamgee!" he said. "What can I do you for?"  
  
"Good morning," I echoed. "Could I please see Frodo?"  
  
The farmer nodded. "Yes, yes of course. One moment."  
  
He disappeared, and I stood hovering on the doorstep, suddenly feeling very nervous and unsure of myself. So had passed since I had last seen him. So much had happened, for better or for worst. How could we simply pick up from where we left off? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and suddenly Frodo was standing in front of me.  
  
It was a different Frodo to the one that I had once known. His face was tiered and worn and his cheeks were pale. He looked thin, as if he hadn't eaten properly but in his eyes was a great sadness, hidden deep down. I couldn't quite pin point it. Maybe he had aged, or perhaps my vision of him that I had stored safely away in my head had been distorted over the time that we had been apart. We both stood still and silent, simply looking at each other. I felt a sudden feeling of pity and grief spread over me. What had happened? What had happened to my Frodo?  
  
"Oh Daisy..." he whispered, his brow creasing upwards and the lines showing around his eyes.  
  
I think that he saw and understood my expression, but was not hurt or offended.  
  
I bit my lip. His being away had left such a scar that neither of us had realised nor comprehended. I knew that we had a lot of talking to do, yet at that time so many things went unsaid.  
  
"Would you like to come for a walk?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, that would be nice." It felt just like the time we had walked together.  
  
He stepped outside and carefully drew the door shut. We walked off, not really paying any attention to where we were going. We meandered over a footbridge and crossed a field. Then we sank down in some long grass beside a tall hedge.  
  
"You came back," I said quietly, slowly winding a blade of grass around my finger.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I did. I never thought I would. I didn't think I would even..." he paused. "I didn't think that I would make it back."  
  
I looked at him, shocked. Then I felt pity again for the poor hobbit beside me that had gone through so many troubles and pain because of the enemies Ring. I reached over for his hand.  
  
"What happened, Frodo?" I asked gently.  
  
He sighed, and looked down. "I can't tell you, I wouldn't know where to begin. Over time I shall explain, but not now. Too much has happened; terrible things have been going on."  
  
Then for the first time I properly noticed his hand. Just four fingers and a stump where one should have been. I took in a sharp intake of breath. Frodo quickly clenched his hand into a fist and held it in his lap as though he was ashamed.  
  
"It was bitten off," he said in way of explanation. I stroked his hand gently in apology for my reaction. I didn't ask him how.  
  
"Did you read the letter?" he asked after a moment's silence.  
  
"I did. Two days after you left," I replied. I paused then, thinking of how best to word my next question. "Did you, well, did you destroy it?" I asked falteringly.  
  
"I did. Sam and I, we both did. That's how my finger got bitten off."  
  
I nodded in understanding.  
  
"Did it help?" he asked. "The letter, I mean. Did you understand why I had to go?"  
  
I nodded. "I know that you had no choice. I still have questions, but I fear they will never be answered and I do not want you to have to tell me, not now."  
  
"Daisy," he said softly, leaning back on the grassy bank. "I'm sorry for leaving you."  
  
"You shouldn't be sorry. You had to go; you had to destroy this Ring. For me to stop you would be folly," I replied, trying to sound reassuring.  
  
"I fear things will never be the same," he announced wearily after a few moments of silence. "I am back, and though I am rested I do not feel myself and maybe I never truly will do."  
  
"Don't say that!" A feeling of apprehension crept over me. I quickly tried to shake it off. "Soon you'll get Bag End back, and things will go back to how it was. Anyone would feel different after such a long journey."  
  
Frodo shook his head with an air of annoyance. Maybe my words had frustrated him, and he felt that I could never understand what had happened. Then he smiled apologetically, and any frustration was gone.  
  
"I am sorry, I shouldn't be angry," he said. "But I don't think I will ever be healed."  
  
"Time," I replied. "Give it time. Things will become right."  
  
"I am injured. Not just my hand, inside of me. My heart and soul have been touched by evil."  
  
I looked at him sombrely. He saw my face and took my hand, kissing it gently. He could tell I was upset and disconcerted by his manner.  
  
"But maybe your right," he reassured me soothingly. "Things may come right yet."  
  
Then he hugged me tight, and kissed me. And although I felt such gladness that he was back there was a nagging doubt at the back of my mind telling me that everything was not all right. For the moment I pushed it aside and basked in the knowledge that Frodo was back, and would not be leaving again.  
  
*-* 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Authors note: Can't believe that there are only 2 chapters to go! Thanks to my reviewers. Arwen undomiel3, it feels like bad stuff always happens in my fics. But don't let that sway you! Swedeisnotavegetable (great name) alas, good fics don't always get that many reviews. It turns my stomach to see Mary Sue rubbish pushing 100. But I'm extremely grateful to have so many nice reviewers :) Bluerain1984, sometimes I feel like I'm Daisy too (and no, I didn't name her after me). She is a very cool little hobbit. Mojo, wait and see! Twin03, it was awkward partly because it was hard to write and partly because I thought that was how they'd interact. Daisy hasn't seen him for over a year, and because he's changed so much she doesn't know how to act, and it's almost as if they're meeting for the first time all over again. Glad you like!  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
It took a while for things to get back to normal. Or as normal as they could get. Bagshot Row was rebuilt and we finally got to move back in. Our family was so happy, and for a while I forgot any private worries or troubles. Summer came, and our larder was almost overflowing with good things to eat, such a harsh contrast to how things were last year. In March, Sam came into the house with a rather bashful expression. He said that there was something he wanted to tell us. Marigold, May, my mother and I all crowded round him, and he announced that he and Rosie Cotton were going to be married. We all whooped in joy and hugged him so tightly I'm surprised that he could breathe! They married on May the first. It was a beautiful day, Rosie looked radiant and Sam was so happy. They married in the Party Field, under the mallorn tree that Sam had planted. He told me about the woods of Lothlorien one evening, and I was spellbound by his description. The tree had flowered, and the blossoms gave off a faint, unearthly scent, somewhat sweet yet fresh. I saw Frodo glancing at it while he thought no one was looking with a slightly dreamy expression on his face, like his mind was wandering somewhere else. I pretended not to notice, he would have been embarrassed.  
  
I didn't see him as often as I did before he went away. We mostly went for quiet walks or I sat in Bag End with him. Sam and Rose had gone up to Bag End to live with him, but sometimes he was lonely. I slowly knew that I had been wrong about time curing all. Frodo did not seem to be improving as much as I had hoped. Granted, he had put on a bit more weight and some colour had come back to his cheeks and he became more cheerful as the weeks went on, but there was still something wrong. Sometimes I could sense sadness deep inside of him, and as I watched him I could not ignore the feeling that he would never be the same. Although I missed how he once had been I pushed all thoughts of that aside.  
  
On September the 22nd it was Frodo and Bilbo's birthday. Frodo held a feast up at Bag End, only small though. He asked me if I would like to come, but I declined. I thought that I would feel out of place among all of his friends that he held so dear.  
  
He settled down for a quiet life. He was writing a lot, locked up in his study for most of the day. I was up at Bag End more than often now. I visited Sam, but when us three were together he made an excuse to leave, winking jovially at both of us as he walked off. He was a dear; he never asked any prying questions or tried to interfere. May, on the other hand, asked me directly when we were going to get married and if she could be my bridesmaid. I batted her away good heartedly, but secretly I wondered the same thing.  
  
When I was alone, and thinking absent-mindedly to myself, I wondered why Frodo hadn't asked me to live with him, or even marry him. Our relationship (and I do feel rather big-headed, calling it that) had slowed down. We usually spent our time in silence, but I think that was the way Frodo preferred it. Sometimes he was almost like himself, joking and laughing, but then he got ill. Sam told me to stay away from Bag End for a few days, for Frodo was not looking well. I fretted, and wondered what was wrong. But it passed, and things carried on, but they were never truly right again.  
  
**  
  
Elanor was born on March the 25th. Such a beautiful baby, Sam was so proud it looked like he would burst. As I held her in my arms I glanced across at Frodo, who was sitting at the other side of the room. I rocked Elanor gently as I looked at him thoughtfully. He smiled a half smile and turned away. He had been ill a week or two before and I thought he was still looking peaky.  
  
Elanor grew up fast that year. The summer was as beautiful as the last, and already the ruffians and Sharkey were becoming nothing but a distant memory. Everything seemed perfect, except for one thing. Frodo. Sometimes I wondered if he liked me at all anymore. Perhaps he didn't have time for me. I drove myself mad with those thoughts. And all thoughts have to come out some time. I poured out my worries to Frodo one evening while we were alone up at Bag End.  
  
"What's happening?" I blurted out, as he sat in silence cradling a mug of tea. Suddenly I detested the stillness that we so often sat in "Why do we never speak? Please, just tell me what's wrong. Talk to me, please talk to me." I felt a lump appear in my throat as I looked at him with tear filled eyes. I felt frustrated and angry, and at that moment sick of never knowing anything.  
  
Frodo came to my side at once, seeing that I was upset.  
  
"Daisy, please don't cry," he said, crouching down beside me. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.  
  
"I'm sorry. But...do you not like me any more?" I cringed inwardly at my choice of words, knowing that I sounded like nothing less than a small child.  
  
"Of course I do," Frodo replied, a confused expression appearing on his face. "Why do you think that?"  
  
"You don't have time for me anymore. Your different, you're different since you came back from this journey. I know that I'll never be able to understand what you went through but it's hard." These jumbled sentences flew from my mouth, and I am amazed that Frodo knew what I meant. He patted my shoulder comfortingly.  
  
"I know it's hard, and I'm sorry. But I have changed, Daisy. I'm not getting any better. I thought that I would find rest back in the Shire, but I haven't and I don't think I ever truly will. I've been ill and I know it will come back."  
  
I could see tears in his eyes, and I hated myself for making him upset.  
  
"Don't doubt me, please don't. Because, Daisy, I love you."  
  
I looked into his eyes and felt love for him back like I had not felt before. I so badly wanted to support him, to let him know that I would always be there for him. "Let me help you, please, tell me what to do," I said, tears spilling onto my cheeks.  
  
"Just be here," he murmured softly, pulling me into a hug.  
  
I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. I felt terrible for being angry at him. Things would be hard, I knew they would, but I didn't care. All I cared about was him, nothing else mattered.  
  
*-* 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The penultimate chapter. I was going to leave it at that, but there is an epilogue to come. I hope that overall I haven't characterised Frodo in a bad light. He always seems to be disappearing, apologising, making excuses and then buggering off again. I shouldn't really criticise, as it's my own fault, but it was hard at times incorporating Daisy and still making the storyline plausible, especially in this chapter. Silverelf, nice to hear from you. That song from Shrek is only one of my favourite songs ever, it's so beautiful. Actually, I may have been listening to it at one point as I wrote this. Bluerain14, I seem to keep making people cry. That's probably a compliment, but don't be too sad! Thanks to everyone else who's reviewed.  
  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
Sam and Frodo were going away on one last journey. To visit Bilbo in Rivendell, Sam told me. He said that they would be back after Bilbo's 131'st birthday. I told Frodo to send him my wishes on the day before they were to leave. I wondered at the time why his face showed signs of guilt, and why he couldn't quite meet my eyes as I spoke. Still, I brushed off my uneasy feelings and carried on as normal. Sam and Frodo rode past Bagshot Row (or New Row, as I keep forgetting to call it) to say farewell. I absent- mindedly wondered why Frodo didn't have very much baggage. I hugged Sam tight, and then turned to Frodo. He still didn't look quite right. Something was wrong, but he still hadn't told me. I noticed him inwardly gather himself, and dismount his pony.  
  
"I need to stretch my legs before I leave," he announced. I raised my eyebrows slightly at his excuse, and shot him a small smile. He smiled back, his lips curving upwards, but I saw something lingering in his eyes, a sense of weariness. My smile faltered, and I looked down.  
  
Sam made to go into the smial, causing everyone else to turn away. I followed Frodo away, and he led me to the Party Tree. We stood by the trunk, hidden by the leaves that were slowly turning golden. Frodo took my hand, and looked gravely into my eyes.  
  
"I haven't been honest Daisy, and I'm sorry," he began.  
  
The tone of his voice worried me. "What? What's wrong?" I asked quickly.  
  
Frodo paused, and looked at the floor for a moment. But he didn't need to say anything. I worked it out first, though I don't truly know how. It was written in his eyes, in his expression. But the realisation hit me suddenly, out of the blue and hard. I felt cold and numb all over, and when I spoke the words came out harshly.  
  
"You're not coming back."  
  
Frodo slowly shook his head.  
  
I stood still, my body stiff. I could feel nothing, no sadness or emotion. My body and brain were numb with the shock of something I had subconsciously feared for a long time. This time there was no hope or solace for me to cling on to.  
  
"Where?" I asked quietly, my head tilted to the floor.  
  
"Across the Sea, with Bilbo and the Elves," he paused and took a breath. I knew how hard it must have been for him to tell me, but at the time none of that mattered. I was being selfish but couldn't help or stop myself.  
  
"I am hurt. I thought that I could be cured, but not here."  
  
Still it didn't sink in. My Frodo? He could not leave me again. An idea, desperate and fruitless, grew and rooted in my mind. I couldn't let him go, not now. "Then let me come with you!" I whispered my voice hopeful yet despairing. "Let me sail away with you." I tilted my head upwards and looked at him, my eyes wide and shimmering with bitter tears.  
  
Frodo sadly shook his head and clasped my hand tightly.  
  
"No Daisy. It's not possible." His voice was soft and heavy with woe. "You must stay. There is a life for you here and I can't take you with me. I have taken so much from you and I know that I've hurt you, but the Shire holds so much, though you have not yet looked hard enough."  
  
His words did not sink in, and I would not let them." But I want to be with you," I said, all of a sudden feeling very lost and helpless. Ever since I was a tweenager I had loved Frodo, though I did not admit it, and now it felt as if I depended upon him more than I had thought. I saw him as my link to happiness, to comfort, he made me feel wanted and loved, and perhaps I had unwittingly convinced myself that I would find those feelings nowhere else.  
  
He gripped my hand harder. "I can't stay here. But Daisy, I love you so much. It breaks my heart to leave you, just like it does to leave Sam and Merry and Pippin. If only I could take you with me. But if I stay I will be ill again, it will become worse, and soon all you and I would have would be pain and suffering. I would not wish that upon anybody."  
  
"At least stay, for a month or a year." I whispered. And how could I let go? There was so much we hadn't done; I longed to have one last meal up at Bag End, to walk down the Water, to sit cuddled in the crook of his arm in the big chair by the fire. "I can't bear to leave you now."  
  
"I must go now," Frodo said sadly. "It must be this way. I wish it wasn't, but we cannot have what we wish for. If we could, I would spend the rest of my days here with you."  
  
I breathed inwards sharply, but my voice choked and it came out like a sob.  
  
"You mean you'd marry me?" I asked, startled in spite of myself. So many emotions were welling up inside me, and happiness rose in my heart for a fleeting moment, though it was unwelcome and unlooked for. I thought of what I had so often day dreamed about. Marigold and May holding posies of spring flowers, Sam and the Gaffer smiling, me wearing a beautiful long dress, and Frodo. the lump in my throat grew and I uttered a silent sob.  
  
"I'd marry you tomorrow!" Frodo exclaimed as if me questioning it was absurd. "But don't you see? I could not have married you and then left you."  
  
Then he paused, looking as if he was gathering strength within himself.  
  
"Forget about me," Frodo said, his voice stern yet his face imploring.  
  
I looked at him, horrified that he could say such a thing. "I will not forget you. It is madness to ask such a thing." In spite of myself, I almost smiled. "The last time you left you begged for me to do the opposite."  
  
"I do it for you, Daisy," he said. "The last thing I can do. I have not treated you fairly; I have left you and returned, only to leave again." He put his hand up and gently stroked my cheek, smiling a half-smile. "You have been wonderful to me." I took his hand in mine again. "But someone else may give you the love and happiness that you deserve."  
  
"I will never love another," I said resolutely.  
  
"Time will heal all," he replied simply.  
  
"But not you."  
  
Frodo shook his head, and at last I could feel myself understanding. Slowly I felt feeling wash over me again, and the numbness changing into a deep feeling of sadness, heavy in my stomach. I suddenly felt weary, and leant against him. My legs didn't want to support me anymore. He stroked my hair gently, reassuring without words.  
  
I breathed in the smell of him, the feeling of his skin, the sound of his breathing. I knew that I cared about him more than anything. Then maybe I had to let him go.  
  
"Will you find peace?" I asked quietly after that moments thought.  
  
"I will not find it here."  
  
"Then go."  
  
He pulled away from me and looked at my face, his eyes sad and dark as they stared into mine.  
  
"I can't keep you here. I do not want to loose you, not again, but I know that you will be happy and that is all I truly want."  
  
Frodo engulfed me in a hug. "Thank you," he said, his voice muffled and thick. "Thank you for understanding."  
  
I didn't speak, just wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. I needed to reassure him as much as he needed to reassure me. I don't know how long we stood, but when he pulled away from me reluctantly I wished that he didn't have to. I could have stood there forever.  
  
"Sam will be waiting," he announced.  
  
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.  
  
"Remember what I said, Daisy."  
  
"I will always remember," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat. I held my head high, not wanting to let him see me cry. I had to be strong.  
  
"I love you." My voice was scarcely more than a whisper. Frodo reached out and rested his hand softly on my cheek. His eyes were glistening with tears. A smile tugged at his lips, as he looked at me. Then he let his hand drop to his side.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
For a fleeting moment he looked at me with sad eyes.  
  
"Farewell."  
  
Then he turned his head.  
  
I stood, rooted to the spot, as he walked away. I watched as he mounted his pony, and I watched as he rode away and left me for the last time.  
  
*-* 


	15. Epilogue

Authors Note: This is the final chapter, a sort of note at the end to show how things end up for Daisy. I don't know how you're all going to react to this, but in my fics I try to be slightly realistic, and I am very aware that things in life don't always have happy endings. I hope this satisfies, and ends the story on a suitable note. Also, I will probably be revising this story in a big way (spelling, plot, tenses etc) some time next month. I do this with all my fics, so any comments/criticism are welcome, as long as they can help me. Because to be honest, I'm not happy with a lot of aspects of this fic, so I will try to change them. This chapter will probably be first on the list. Thank you so much to anyone who's reviewed, I appreciate it so much. If you're interested in my work, take a look at my profile. I have a few short fics written, which should be uploaded in the near future.  
  
Epilogue  
  
"Time will heal all."  
  
I remembered what he had said, and fiercely clung onto his words. I knew that he was right. At first I didn't ever think that I would be happy again. I couldn't think of what life would be like without him, and I despaired. The first time he went away I had hope, but this time I thought that there was none. I knew that I would never see him again. Sadness engulfed me; I did not leave the house until two weeks after he left. Sam came back alone, and the day after he returned I made my way up to Bag End to see him. It seemed strangely empty without Frodo. Sam seemed subdued, but not as sad as I was. More calm, more contented.  
  
"He went off with Bilbo and Gandalf, and the Elves," he told me. We were sitting at the kitchen table with Rosie cradling Elanor in the rocking chair.  
  
"Do you think he will be happy?" I asked.  
  
"I should think so. He went off in such a beautiful boat, all white and sort of glowing. If it's good enough for the Elves then Mister Frodo should be happy there."  
  
Then he looked me in the eye. "And how are you?" I knew he could tell I wasn't right, he knew me too well.  
  
"It's getting better," I replied, sighing without meaning to.  
  
He looked at me doubtfully.  
  
"It's been hard," I said finally, giving into his stare. "I miss him so much."  
  
Sam patted my hand sympathetically. "You mustn't give up hope." Then he looked at me, and his eyes were solemn yet wise and deep. Again I noticed the change in my dear brother. "You mustn't give up hope, not even when there is none to be found. One thing I have learnt is that even when things seem to be at their darkest, a chink of light can still come through. If all you have is hope, you must cling on."  
  
I nodded. "I'll try and think like that, and I know that you're right." I sighed again, "But I do miss him."  
  
"It will get easier. Just give it time."  
  
I smiled, something that I hadn't done in a long while. "Frodo said that once."  
  
And so time went on, and things did get better. There were bad times, when I wept into my pillow and couldn't face the day. I cursed myself for making mistakes, for being shy and foolish, for wasting so much time ignoring him when we could have been together. I hated myself then, and I pursed my lips and turned my head to the wall, shutting myself away for hours. But eventually my ma would come in with a bowl of soup and her no-nonsense attitude, and I would have to pull myself together. The good times came more frequently as the years went on. I went out again, I began to do my mending, and slowly things went back to normal. Well, as normal as could be expected. Not a day went by that I didn't think of Frodo. I learnt to cope with it though. And one day I met someone else. It began when I brought food to his smial, and he brought me material and wool in return. His wife had died a few years back, and we offered each other support. He understood my feelings, and I understood his. I liked spending time with him and slowly I found myself believing that I maybe could love again after all. Simply being wanted, being needed by someone again made me feel well, though I found it difficult at first though. I hated the thought of betraying Frodo, I wondered where he was and what he was doing and if he was truly happy about me finding another husband.  
  
"Time will heal all."  
  
We married four years after Frodo left. At first I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted. I cried before I left home, I cried for all that I had lost, as I crouched in my little bedroom in Bagshot Row. But then May, practical as ever, wiped my face with a handkerchief and spoke firm and comforting words to me. I knew she was right. I pulled on my gown and she tidied my hair. The day turned out to be perfect. Both happy and sad, if that is possible. I saw Sam looking at me with damp eyes. Maybe he knew how I felt.  
  
We live together, in a little hobbit hole in Bywater. I have begun a new life, a new chapter, but I will never forget past times. They are a part of me, like Frodo the memory of Frodo is.  
  
"Mustn't dwell," Sam told me firmly one day. It was the 22nd of September. I felt funny as soon as I woke up. I left the household duties and went off for a walk, unsure of where I was going. I ended up at Bag End. Sam looked at my face and knew at once why I had come. He took me into the study and poured me a mug of warm cider. We talked and laughed together, he told me of their adventures and I fondly recalled memories of the times we had spent together.  
  
I put my hand on my stomach gently. We visited the healers yesterday, she told me I was with a child. I smiled, and mused gently to myself as I stood in the kitchen. I realised for the first time how contented I felt. Warm, comfortable and satisfied with my life. Maybe it's not the path I would have chosen for myself, but that is a choice I never fully had.  
  
I knew Frodo would be.  
  
The End 


End file.
